Art Composition

Artistic Composition and the Position of an Asymmetrical Nebari

The unassuming tree pictured above recently provoked an extended and at
times heated debate on one of the internet bonsai forums. The topic: the "proper" relation
between the position and movement of a tree's surface roots and the position
and movement of its trunk.

Most of the argument circled around physical metaphors. Is a slanting tree
analogous to a construction crane, supported by broad base extending
beneath the outreached movement of the trunk? Or is it like a billowing
sail, held aloft by the tension in a network of supporting cables on the
side away from the wind and the lean? Defenders of the tree pictured above
argued the former in order to justify the heavy root extending out below
the slanting base; detractors, for their part, argued the latter.

But of course the roots of any real tree act in both capacities. On the
side away from the lean, they grip the soil and provide stability through
tension; below the lean, the roots serve as a rigid base to support the trunk
and canopy. Which, then, should the artist choose?

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the answer returns to the language of composition
and the way in which the position of the roots relates to the position
and movement of the remainder of the tree. Depending on which side
the strongest roots reside, the tree is supported primarily by one
mechanism or the other -- and visually, we see this support expressing
either compression or tension.
These physical forces inherent in the structure of a tree are not without
implications both emotional and compositional: the support by compression
or tension must be accounted for in the overall design of the bonsai.
This requires a logical explanation in the rest of the structure for
how the tree rises from the ground, and this explanation must be consistent
in both a physical sense and in an artistic sense. Tension requires
obedience and compression requires release. How those dynamics are
accounted for in the overall design is how we must measure the success
or failure of the root configuration of a bonsai.

Further, these explanations must be freely visible to the viewer. A hidden
system of support is unlikely to satisfy the mind's eye even if it should
satisfy the calculations of an engineer. In a 1915 painting manual The
Artistic Anatomy of Trees, Rex Vicat Cole explains:

"We know how much a standing [human] figure depends for its dignity
upon is balance...so it is with a tree; in a well-poised trunk the larger
limbs, and the foliage they carry, appear to be balanced without an effort....The
balance I wish to call attention to is when the trunk leans or curves, but
still supports the weight of foliage and boughs directly over its base [Figure
3]; or when the deviation of the line is excessive in one direction. We know
that the roots of a tree ensure stability, so that the exact balance of the
human figure is not essential, but "it requires an artful pencil," as
Gilpin says, to draw possible lines in a leaning tree; these should
not suggest an imminent upheaval. We seem to be more
assured if we can see the mechanism that ties to the ground any upright form
that is out of the vertical. I wonder if, whilst standing under a builder's crane, we should
not watch its evolutions with more pleasure if we could see some counteracting
weight to balance the stone swinging overhead?" (emphasis mine.)

Figure 4: Rex Vicat Cole's sketch of a leaning but balanced tree.

Finally, we cannot resolve this debate solely by observing the natural growth
habits of trees. We wish to represent natural trees, of course, but to copy
them is not sufficient for the art. We need to find a way to create a harmony
of visual balance and consistency of artistic elements. In Cole's words,

"We often see trees which seem not to have a true balance. To see
them so in nature is one thing, to live with them in a picture is another
-- and undesirable."